


All is ash

by cincave



Category: Gaya Sa Pelikula (Web Series)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:41:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28434072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cincave/pseuds/cincave
Summary: The fallout of your mistake.
Kudos: 2





	All is ash

Prompt: _Ludwig submitting those requirements that Rob was asking for, and the pain of pretending they're purely teacher and student now as if nothing happened that previous summer._

_All is ash without you_

It is hard to quantify the skill of his writing when you have lost all objectivity when it comes to him. It is hard to asses, edit, grade and critic a poem when it is about you.

Aren't relationships with students supposed to be the province of elderly professors looking to break the monotony of their lives? And yet, here you are. Not even in your thirties and you've already endangered your career by succumbing to him.

 _All is gray without you_

And that is what it is. You succumbed to him. He was the relentless armada against your resilience and fortitude. You've had your fair share of student admirers, all looking for late night conversations with you.

You have always turned their attention, waylaid their advances, outlasted the siege until their forces starved and were forced to withdraw.

But him. Him. He found the skeleton key of your vine-grown gate. He wheeled the wooden horse inside your city walls.

All those late nights, discussing the brilliance of iambic pentameter and dramatic readings of Shakespeare sonnets.

He kissed you. And you let him.

God, you wanted him so much.

His brilliant mind, the cunning way he writes turns of phrases and heat of his body under you.

For one night, you had him. And then you had to redraw those lines once more, rebuild the walls, hunt down the heretics in an exercise of futility, knowing full well that he is too ingrained in you for you to ever fully exorcise him.

_This morning monochrome that can only be colored by your laugh_

You realize now that this poem is about that morning when you left him on the bed sleeping and you escaped outside like the coward that you are.

It must not, it cannot happen again. Your career is on the line. Your reputation is on the line. Too many people, including your brother look up to you. The heart must be denied no matter how much it cries out.

You must don the mask of indifference when facing him and pray that the ecstatic beating of your heart does not give you away. You are a professor. He is a student.

You forward his emailed final work to another professor and ask them, as a favor, to grade it for you. And now, you begin the herculean task of convincing yourself that you are doing the right thing.

_What is chartreuse, what is vermillion, what is ochre_

_They are all colorless against the deep blackness of you being gone_


End file.
